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Dumdum (Featured story in the anthology
Dumdum (Featured story in the anthology
Dumdum (Featured story in the anthology
Ebook23 pages21 minutes

Dumdum (Featured story in the anthology

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At first "the boy" finds the inbred calves he has to tend a burden and embarrassment. That is until the squatters at a country store try to pass the calves off to a stranger traveling through. "Never name a cow, boy," one of the men say. But it's too late. The boy has named and fallen in love with them, especially the cow he calls Dumdum.

LanguageEnglish
Release dateJun 22, 2010
ISBN9781452393544
Dumdum (Featured story in the anthology
Author

Janice Daugharty

Janice Daugharty is Artist-in-Residence at Abraham Baldwin Agricultural College, in Tifton, Georgia. She is the author of one story collection and five novels: Dark of the Moon, Necessary Lies, Pawpaw Patch, Earl in the Yellow Shirt, and Whistle.

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    Dumdum (Featured story in the anthology - Janice Daugharty

    Dumdum

    a story by Janice Daugharty

    Smashwords Edition

    Copyright 2010 Janice Daugharty

    First published in the Chattahoochee Review, Fall 2004

    Anthologized in: New Stories from the South: the Year’s Best of 2004

    From the store porch, the three men watched the strange car come, out of the south and blue like the tweed highway was blue, but not like the sky was blue, not that blue.

    The car slowed for the railroad tracks that crossed east to west or west to east, depending on the direction of the trains passing through the dried-up town each morning, evening and night. It was morning now and the tracks ran parallel to the south side of the two-story peeling white building built like a box. A pecan shadetree at the crossing threw still flocked shadows onto the new blue car roof and slid off the trunk as it bucked and dipped over the shined double rails and didn’t pick up speed again which meant it was going to stop by the store.

    The driver had the window up with the air conditioner running—engine hum always gave that away—you could tell it every time. He parked and sat there for a minute, looking to his right and down, maybe taking money from his wallet on the car seat, maybe writing something, maybe listening to the radio or hiding a pistol.

    At last, he opened the door and stepped one foot out as if testing the spotty grass and gravel with his polished brown loafer. Then spinning round on the seat and bringing the other foot out and standing, closing the door.

    Hot already, ain’t it? said J.C., raring in the stout chair, right

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